That's Absurd
by jaxink
Summary: 2007 movieverse: Sam has an odd question to ask the Autobots. Life was simpler before the strange inquiries of humans. -oneshot-


Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. Nope, I don't. Oh, and for this story, I don't own Google either.

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_A/N: Well, here's another humorous (I hope) one-shot. Completely random--but I find that I do random fairly well. It was inspired by a prompt from the tfbunnyfarm on Livejournal from cheysulinight, or kirin- saga now. Can't tell you what the bunny is right now, otherwise it would spoil the story! Enjoy!_

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**That's Absurd**

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"4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:02, 4:0—oh look, Mojo, it's now 4:03," Sam muttered. "Time sure flies…"

The teen laid across his bed, sprawled on his back, and his head hanging over the edge. He could feel the blood rushing to his head; everything was starting to feel hazy. Sam had spent the last hour reciting each minute passing as he stared at the upside-down, glowing red numbers of his alarm clock.

Mojo barked and scuttled out of the bedroom, quite uninterested in his master's ramblings. With a heavy sigh, Sam sat up. "I'm soooo bored," he said to no one. "I wish 'Bee was here."

But alas, his yellow Autobot friend would be occupied until later that evening. He was on a training mission with Ironhide—and he could take even longer if he needed repairs from those activities. Sullenly, Sam placed his head in his heads. What a lame Friday night this was turning out to be…

"Sam!" Judy Witwicky hollered from downstairs.

Groaning, he called back, "What, Mom?"

"You've got a package…from your uncle? I don't know what—uh…" she was cut off as Sam snatched the package and took it back upstairs in a blur.

Shaking her head, Judy murmured, "What is up with that boy?"

Sam securely closed the door to his room with a soft _click _before jumping back on his bed to anxiously tear into the package.

"Yes, been waitin' for this all month…" Sam's wild hormones took to joyous flight as he glanced over and thoroughly studied each page of Busty Beauties with greedy eyes. "Looks like there will be plenty of Sam's Happy Time in the near future."

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With that capturing his attention, time really did fly by. However, some time later, a blaring honk shattered his entrancement. He glanced at the alarm clock—6:30 already? Sam looked out the window and noted with glee his best friend was outside waiting. Finally! He was spending his entire weekend with the Autobots at their base. Hurriedly, Sam shoved his new magazine under the bed, grabbed his already packed bag, and rushed out—

"Ooof!" Sam cried out as he fell with a thud to the floor.

Rubbing his knees, he looked behind him to see what tripped him. A large pile of car magazines? Ah, right, Mikaela had left them for Sam to look over. She insisted if he was going to be around gigantic alien robots that could transform into cars, he better learn a thing or two about model types and how they function.

One of the magazines was open to a page with a sleek blue Corvette. Sam studied it thoughtfully, mesmerized by its curves and smooth lines. _Shiny…_

Another loud honk broke his gaze from the photo, and he bounded out of his room and down the stairs. He stopped only to shout back to his mother in the kitchen, "Going out with 'Bee for the weekend, Mom! See you later!"

"Alright, sweetie! Buckle up and tell Bumblebee to drive more slowly. You two make me so nervous while you're out…what is it? Cruising?"

Not wanting to get caught in a conversation about cool "lingo" with his mother, Sam rolled his eyes and made a bolt for the door. "Can't hear you, bye!"

Once outside, the driver's door of the Camaro popped open and Sam slid into the seat. "Hey, 'Bee," he warmly greeted his friend.

"Hello, Sam. Are you well?"

"Yeah, I'm good. How was training with big bad 'Hide?"

Rolling out of the driveway, Bumblebee laughed. "Oh, you mean Mr. Get-Your-Aft-In-Gear-Before-I-Shoot-It? It was fine. He's a stern teacher, but his lessons are…invaluable, I suppose."

"Why's that?" Sam asked idly as he stroked the steering wheel fondly.

"Ironhide believes in a 'hands-on-learning' experience. As soon as we were far enough out into the desert, he told me to start driving. I asked him, 'Where?' To which he responded, 'Anywhere my cannons won't be able to find you.'"

"Oh man…"

"Tell me about it. He shot at me for three hours as I tried to evade his attacks. I think I did well—aside from losing a hand," the small scout mused.

Sam's eyes widened comically. "What?!"

"Yes, near the end I was tiring. As I tried to peak out from behind a rock structure to make my next move, I jumped back too slowly to avoid a blast. My hand flew clear off—energon lines spurting and wires sparking."

"You're okay now, right? I mean, Ratchet wouldn't let you leave without getting repairs done."

"Oh yes, Ratchet insisted I couldn't leave to pick you up before staying for repairs. In fact, right after I sustained my injury, Ironhide helped me back to base. He ended up needing repairs himself once we arrived."

"Why?"

"Ratchet punched him."

Laughing, Sam asked, "What? Why?"

Bumblebee chuckled. "Why does Ratchet do anything he does? 'Cause he's easily annoyed. He yelled at Ironhide for damaging me. He said he was tired of repairing me for injuries that are inflicted by other Autobots."

"Ha! That's right; didn't Optimus step on your foot last week?"

"Yes, but that was an accident."

"All the same, Ratchet still had to fix it. Poor guy…I wonder if he could charge you guys for his services…"

"Don't even think about suggesting it, Sam."

Smoothing his hands over the steering wheel to placate his friend, Sam smiled and said, "Okay, okay. Don't worry, 'Bee. My lips are sealed."

They fell into a companionable silence, and Bumblebee turned on the radio to allow some music to flow into the interior of the car. The drive to the Autobot base was a tad…uneventful and remarkably uninteresting in terms of scenery, so Sam's thoughts began to drift as he looked out the window…

'Did I do my homework for Monday? Yeah, I think so, but I gotta call Miles about that chem. lab.'

Tree. Field. Another tree.

'I hope mom's doing the laundry—I have no clean underwear. Oh well…what I can just re-wear old ones. They're not that bad…'

Bird. Tree. Tree. Tree. Rock.

'Did Mikaela need those car mags back soon? I haven't really had a chance to look through 'em yet. That one with the Corvette was sweet. Pretty hot lookin'…I wonder what 'Bee would think of—'

Sam froze, stopping that line of thought. The very idea chilled him to his core. It was so…disturbing and odd…he couldn't even form the idea completely. And yet, he was still curious… It could make sense… 'No! Stop thinking that!'

A calm voice startled him out of his stupor. "Sam, are you okay? We've arrived," 'Bee questioned with a soft, concerned tone. Numbly, he nodded and exited the Camaro to stand in the entryway of the base. Bumblebee transformed, only to kneel next to his human friend.

"Are you certain you're feeling well?" the scout asked again.

Ratchet arrived to greet them with Optimus Prime trailing closely behind him. "What's the matter with him?" the medic inquired, preparing to run a scan on the teen. "He looks like he's about to have a systems crash."

Bumblebee shook his head. "I don't know. He was fine on the way over."

Sam barely felt the tingle of the scan running over his body even as his hairs stood on end. The CMO shrugged his shoulders. "I am unable to detect anything physically wrong with him."

Looking on with concern, Optimus knelt down closer to the boy. "Sam?"

The teen looked up into electric blue optics absently. "Yeah?"

"Is something bothering you?"

Ironhide chose that moment to stroll in as well. "What's going on?"

"Shhhhh!" Bumblebee and Ratchet let out at the same time. Ironhide scowled and was about to retort, but Ratchet cut him off. "For once, 'Hide—mute it."

"Not really, I dunno…maybe. I kinda have a weird question," Sam began nervously.

"Whatever it is, Sam, you can ask us anything," 'Bee said.

He nodded. "Well, I was just thinking…humans admire cool cars. I mean, I remember when 'Bee scanned that concept Camaro and rolled up…damn. He picked such a sweet ride! And I know you guys appreciate a good alt form, but…"

"But…?" Prime prompted.

Sam looked at his feet before responding. "Are car magazines robot porn?"

"…" An awkward silence filled the room.

Feeling his face turn red, completely mortified, Sam felt as if he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. "Guys? Oh jeez, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to insult you or be offensive! 'Bee? Prime? Helloooo?"

They were all staring at him oddly. Bumblebee cleared static from his vocal processor before asking, "What's 'porn'?"

Sam's jaw fell open. "You don't know? I thought you've been on the Web since you got here?"

"We have, Sam, but we only download information that is relevant or necessary to us," Ratchet helpfully explained.

"Oh."

"Does that mean if we search the Internet for this 'porn,' we'll find out what it is?" Ironhide asked naively.

"Yeah, you could Google it or something, but I wouldn't recommend it. You'll find out more than you want to know…" Sam warned.

"Frag that. What's the big deal?" the Topkick asked gruffly. He accessed the Internet through his processors and Googled "porn."

Ratchet crossed his arms over his chassis. "'Hide is right. That's nonsense. Too much information…human life is primitive, but fascinating all the same. I, for one—Ironhide, what's the matter with you now? Stop twitching."

The weapon specialist's body continued to shake and the hysterics began. "Ahhhhhhhhh!"

"What is it, you old piece of scrap?" Ratchet demanded to know, searching for an injury.

"It burns my processors! Why are there billions of videos and photos of naked humans on the Web?!"

The other 'bots looked at him with an expression of terror. Sam just sighed. "I told him not to Google it."

Ironhide let out another yell. "It keeps coming up with more results. Make it stop, Ratch! I can't stop the flow!"

"Oh, for Primus' sake…" Ratchet dodged his comrade's waving arms and reached for a hidden switch beneath his neck cables. With a _clang_, Ironhide felt into stasis lock on the floor.

"Great, now I'm going to have to purge his files of that data…I'll be prepping the med bay. Bring him down there in a breem, will you?" Ratchet said nonchalantly as he left the entryway.

Optimus looked down at Sam. "So, why _are_ there pictures and videos of humans procreating on the Internet?"

"Some people like to look, I guess. For curiosity, pleasure—hell, I'm guilty of it."

"And you were wondering if photos of cars are similar to this 'porn' for Cybertronians?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Sam sheepishly smiled. "Yeah?"

"That's absurd. I've never heard of such a strange thing. I'll return in one moment to help you carry Ironhide, Bumblebee," Optimus said with a scoff.

"Yes, sir." With that response from the scout, the leader of the Autobots exited as well.

Sam looked up at his guardian. "Guess I never should have brought it up, huh?"

"I think it was a perfectly reasonable question, Sam. We did say you could ask us anything."

"Yeah, but Optimus didn't seem too happy."

"Nonsense. Check these out," Bumblebee said. His optics glowed and emitted several images of lustrous, dynamic cars and vehicles around Sam.

Looking them over, Sam said, "Nice! But what are they?"

Bee smiled and pointed. "Well, that's Arcee, and there's Moonracer, and that's Firestar. Oh, and there's Elita and Chromia. They're femmes."

"Female Autobots?"

"Yes."

The human shook his head in disbelief. "Where'd you get these images from? They agree to pose for you or something?"

"No, of course not. I hacked into Prime's central office computers. He's got quite a collection of them."

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_A/N: Ha! Well, what do you think? The bunny was simply the question: _"Are car magazines robot porn?"_ And I ran with it from there... Who knew Prime was such a dirty 'ol bot? -gasp- And what would Elita say? XD_


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